Hidden Beauty
by PuraJazzBot
Summary: [G1]Tracks and Mirage discover just how meaningful Christmas can be when they work to give the children of an orphanage a Merry Christmas. Written for an LJ Community Xmas Challenge.
1. Tree

**Tree**

It began as a typical winter's night – cold and dark – and in the midst of the lush pine forest, the local fauna settled down to sleep away the hours till sunrise. Rabbits dove into warm burrows, birds settled in their nests, and deer curled up in whatever patch of foliage they could find.

But there was nothing typical about the mechanical being, almost as tall as the trees themselves, that lumbered a little clumsily along the small forest paths, scaring the wildlife into bewildered awareness. The few slivers of moonlight colored his armor a rich cobalt blue, but offered no other assistance in making his trek easier.

For that he turned to his smaller organic companion. The human walked beside him even though he barely reached the mech's knee, and made a lot less noise than his Autobot counterpart did. Despite being out in the wilderness in the middle of winter, the young male wore only jeans, boots, and a thick jacket over his t-shirt. His raven-black hair was pulled back into a ponytail and out of his olive-brown skinned face.

"Pine Barrens ain't all that barren anymore now, huh?" he asked the Autobot.

The mech's white-framed face contorted into a scowl as he stopped to untangle one of his overhead missile launchers from a branch.

"Don't remind me," he replied in a slightly accented voice. "Honestly Raoul, did we have to come here of all places, considering you were nearly vaporized the last time we were here."

"You worry too much Tracks. Besides, I showed that old Decepticon who's boss didn't I? Anyway, it's the closest place to the city I could think of, unless you intended to drive for miles and still make it back within the hour."

"Incase you've forgotten, _I _can fly."

"Yeah, but there ain't that many pumps along the way for you to stop and get refueled every time you use up crazy amounts of gas."

"That's 'energon' to you."

"Whatever, now get a move on or we'll be here all night!"

"Easy for you to say," Tracks said as he followed the boy. "You don't have pine branches slapping you in the face every few meters."

"Yeah, but look on the bright side, at least you'll smell good."

Raoul walked a few more steps, trying not to trip over any roots or burrows, and finally stopped in front of a young tree only half the size of its sky-scraper-like cousins. This one, though eclipsing him by a few feet, came only upto Tracks' hip.

"I think we gotta winner here," he said.

"Have you even given any thought as to how exactly we're going to get the tree back?" Tracks asked as he took out his gun.

"Sure I did. 's why I asked you along, man."

Some time later, once they got back to the main road, Raoul finished strapping the now-felled young tree to the roof of Tracks' Corvette alt mode, and opened the passenger door to climb in.

"I can't believe you're making me drive back to New York City with a pine tree on my roof," Tracks said. "If anyone sees me like this…"

"Oh quit whinin' man," Raoul replied, as he got in and shut the door. "Think of all the kids back at the orphanage that're gonna be happy to have a Christmas Tree delivered to them by an Autobot."

"Delighted, I'm sure." Tracks strapped the boy in and gunned his engine. "You owe me for this Raoul."

"I already repaid the favor."

"And how's that?"

"The way you smell right now? You're not gonna need a carwash for days."

END.


	2. Carols

**Carols**

Personally, there were a dozed other places he would have rather been right now. This was New York City after all – the home of Times Square, Central Park and Broadway – he could have been visiting some of the landmarks that made this city what it was. Truth be told, it reminded him a little bit of his own home. The lofty sky-scrapers were like miniature versions of the spired towers that had once stood tall and proud in his home-city of Iacon, the shiny black roads like the polished highways that had been a pleasure to zip along.

Fate was probably pointing and laughing at him right now. One of his rare chances to get out of the desert and into a city, and he was… here. Perhaps he should have volunteered to go with the human instead of Tracks.

The loud clunk of a flat note almost gave him surges as he turned around to look at the old lady who plonked haphazardly on the old wooden piano. The children who stood around her fidgeted anxiously, no more happy to be there than he was. He figured they would have rather been gorging on the milk and cookies he'd brought instead of warbling to the tunes of an off-key piano.

Where was Jazz when you needed him.

Then again, it wasn't as if he was completely uncultured so as not to be able to tune a primitive piano, and by Primus, when he got back to the Ark, he was going to talk Jazz into buying the orphanage a proper one. For now though…

"I'm sorry," he said, bending down to look at the old lady. "I couldn't help but notice your piano needs a little tuning. May I have look?"

The dame stared up at him for a moment, then placed a wrinkled hand to her throat.

"Oh," she trilled. "Why of course you may. Thank you. Such a nice lad, what was your name again? Mir- Mirror?" 

"Mirage."

"Ah yes, Mirage." She gestured to the piano. "Please, go ahead."

"Miss Langden, may we have something to eat till then?" a little girl with red pig-tails asked imploringly.

"Well… I suppose you can, but not too much! Mustn't spoil your voices; you still have to sing for the Autobots later!"

The children scampered off to fill their hungry tummies and Miss Langden scampered behind them as much as her plump girth would let her, to make sure they didn't fill them too much. Mirage, for the moment, was left in relative peace and quiet as he opened the lid of the piano and peered inside.

His sharp spy-optics saw the problem immediately and he reached inside to carefully adjust the delicate strings. Once he was done, he closed the lid and sat back, only to see a little blond boy staring up at him.

"Will you sing us something, Mr. Autobot?" he asked, eyes big and brown.

He was instantly joined by a chorus of other children that surrounded him with the same request.

"I… I'm not much of a singer," Mirage stammered. "And I don't know many songs."

"Then sing us one you do know," another little girl with brown hair suggested. "Please?"

The spy fought down a nervous feeling in his storage banks and looked at the small group of eager faces in front of him. He had a strong suspicion that to decline was to risk certain death by certain other Autobots for "breaking their little hearts, and on Christmas Eve, too", so he quickly searched through his memory banks for a song.

Finally he settled on one that he'd heard Jazz playing a few days ago and had taken a liking to.

"I'm not very good," he tried one last time.

"Neither are we," a red-headed boy replied.

Seeing no other possible way out, Mirage cleared his vocalizer as the children sat at his feet, looking up at him in anticipation.

"I'm dreaming of a white christmas, just like the ones I used to know…".

END.


	3. Snow

**Snow**

People often had this romantic view of snow. Every store-front displayed beautifully shaped snowflakes randomly plastering the glass-face or cottony-soft 'drifts' framing the edges. Movies and books often showed pictures of children playing in the snow or couples walking arm-in-arm through a gentle snow-fall.

It was all well and good because at the end of the day, those people had nice warm homes to go back into. None of them ever had to be out in the dark of night when the snow fell heavier and harsher, or out in a storm when the snow turned into a blizzard, or even stuck in a hard, compact drift.

Not that he knew about the last one. Up until a couple of years ago, he'd never even known what it was like to ride in a car, and now here he was inside a Corvette of all things. So why was he without a girlfriend again?

"Looks like we have our first snowfall of the evening," Tracks said over his internal radio system.

Ah, that was why. Having an Autobot for a car didn't set too well with the girls he'd tried to approach, especially one that liked to come and go as he pleased.

"Turn on your wipers, man. Y'don't want that stuff to build up on your windshield," he replied.

Tracks' wipers came on with a soft whirr and Raoul leaned forward to try and look past the Autobot's headlights into the darkness beyond. Above him, he heard the pine branches rustle against the roof of the blue Corvette and hoped he had strapped the tree down securely enough.

"Those branches had better not be scraping my paint," Tracks remarked.

"Stop whinin' man, they're just pine needles."

"Exactly. Incase you're unaware Raoul, needles are capable of scouring my delicate roof surface."

"Well the sooner you stop whinin' and pick up the pace, the sooner we'll get back and get it off you."

Tracks was about to respond when a small shape suddenly scampered across the narrow road, spooking him and causing him to swerve sharply to the right to avoid hitting it. His tyres squealed as they scrambled for purchase on the slippery ice, trying to counter his momentum.

"Brakes!" Raoul yelled.

"Its not working!" Tracks replied.

Then, just as abruptly, they came to a stop with a soft thunk, and white powdery snow showered onto the Corvette, thoroughly coating his hood and the tree.

"Must have hit a drift," Tracks said, powering up his wipers again and cleaning the snow from his windshield so they could see what they'd hit. "Are you alright, Raoul?"

"Just fine," the boy replied, rubbing his chest where the seat-belt had cut into it a little sharply. "Can you get us out?"

"I can try." Tracks gunned his engine and threw his gear into reverse, trying to pull the right corner of his hood out of the drift of snow it had wedged into.

Raoul was out of the car in minutes. "Let me take a look."

"Are you crazy? Get back inside, its freezing out there!" Tracks called.

The boy ignored him and walked up to the drift instead, then proceeded to scrape away handfuls of snow from the around the blue hood and wheel, trying to dig out a sufficient opening so that Tracks could pull away. The cold bit into his skin through the thin gloves he wore, but he pushed all thoughts of discomfort aside as he worked to free his friend.

At last he stood up and straightened. "Give it gas, Tracks."

The Autobot revved his engine once more and pulled into reverse as hard as he could. The hood came free, sending another light shower of snow down onto Raoul, who yelped and ran to get back into the car.

"Be careful not to get too much snow onto the floor. Its not easy to clean up," Tracks said.

"You're welcome," Raoul replied as he rubbed his hands together, trying to warm them up again.

Tracks pulled up the small embankment and onto the road again, opening his glove compartment. "Put your hands in there, its warmer."

Raoul did as he was told. "Just so you know, this is the third time I've saved your sorry butt."

"You're welcome, too, Raoul."

END.


	4. Presents

**Presents**

Mirage stood up and went to the window as the children resumed their singing practice at the newly tuned piano. Snow fell heavily outside and he wondered if Tracks and Raoul were alright out there, and whether he should go out and see if he could help them in any way.

He turned back around when he heard a small shuffling sound behind him, and looked down at a little raven-haired girl who was standing at his feet and looking up at him. She clutched an old, worn teddy bear in one arm.

"Um… hello," Mirage said, trying to sound as friendly as he could, and throwing in a bit of a smile.

The girl giggled and held her bear up to him. "Mewwy Cwistmas!"

"Merry Christmas." Mirage knelt. "Uh… what's this?"

"Cwistmas pwesent!" She held the bear to him again.

"But… it's yours," Mirage replied, a little bewildered.

"Yours now, siwwy!" the little one laughed.

The spy shook his head. "I couldn't possibly take this. It must mean a lot to you."

The girl pouted. "You don't wike?"

"No! No, I like it." Mirage nodded, a little alarmed. The last thing he wanted was to make a little girl cry on Christmas Eve. "But why?"

"We a'ways give pwesents to each other on Cwistmas Eve," she replied, taking his hand and placing the bear on his palm. "My mommy and daddy a'ways told me to give a pwesent to someone who wooks wess happy than I am."

Mirage raised his optic ridges. "And… you're happy here?"

She nodded. "Mommy and Daddy went to heaven, but they weft me with fwiends to wook after me, tiw it's time for me to see them again. This my fam'wy now."

Mirage touched the girl's hair with a finger, closing his other hand around the bear. "You're a very brave little girl. What's your name?"

"Ma'tha." She tilted her head. "You don't have fam'wy? That why you sad?"

"I… uh… I do… a small one. The rest are in… uh… heaven, for now… And I guess I miss my home a little, too."

"Don't be sad. It Cwistmas now, and you have a pwesent. Smile!"

Mirage smiled despite himself. "Hehe, yes I do. Thank you."

"You're we'come, mister Autobot."

"My name's Mirage."

"Miwage?" The girl giggled. "Your name has same fwirst w'tter as mine!"

"Yeah," he gave her a pat on the head. "Yeah it does."

"Mewwy Cwistmas, mister Miwage!" She ran off to join a group of other children.

"Merry Christmas, Martha." He looked at the old teddy bear in his hand, then opened a comm.link. "Mirage to Tracks."

END.


	5. Lights

**Lights**

Tracks sped along the lonely road, careful of any patches of ice that may have formed over the tar. The last thing he wanted was to land himself in another snowdrift, one had been bad enough. Raoul leaned forward in the passenger seat, his keen eyes keeping a lookout for any wildlife incase it wandered across the road.

"We gotta hurry man, we only got a couple of hours left to get back and set this baby up," he said.

"I'm going as fast as I can Raoul," Tracks replied patiently. "These arent exactly the best conditions to drive in, in case you were wondering. Unless you feel upto getting out and pushing me out of the next drift we end up in."

"Fine! Just get there alright!"

"In good time my friend, in good time. We still need to detour and buy some lights and decorations for the tree."

Raoul groaned and sat back. "We're never gonna make it in time."

"Well look on the bright side, at least it's stopped snowing so heavily."

Raoul's smart comeback was stopped by a light flashing on Tracks' dashboard, signalling an incoming call. Sighing, he pressed the appropriate button to accept it.

"This is Tracks and Raoul," he said. There was a slight crackling over the line, followed by a good deal of white noise. "Uh… hello?"

"This is Mirage," a voice said at last.

"Is everything alright on your end?" Tracks asked.

"All's fine. Listen, uh… I need a favor. Can you help me buy some gifts for the children here at the orphanage?"

"Suddenly feeling generous?"

"I just think they deserve a little something more than a tree with lights. And I need one of those gifts to be a little extra special."

"Someone catch your eye, 'Raj?" Raoul asked with a snicker.

"There is, in fact, a young lady here that I have become rather fond of." A touch of humor crept into Mirage's voice.

"Alright, we'll see what we can do. Any particular item in mind?" asked Tracks.

"Something cute would be nice. Mirage out."

The line went dead and Raoul leaned back in his seat again. "So what do you suggest Tracks?"

"Well, I'm guessing he has one of those plush toys in mind," the mech replied. "Probably in a shade of pink. So I'm sure you wouldn't mind picking one up for him?"

"No way in the pits, man!" Raoul protested. "I ain't carryin' some girly toy around, it'll get me beaten up!"

"And that concept is new to you how?"

"Oh yeah, haha, you laugh."

"Don't mind if I do, maybe while I'm saving you from getting beaten up – another concept that's not new to you, is it?" Tracks chuckled.

"Keep it up, and the next time you get stuck in a drift, I'm leaving you there."

"Well you'll have to hold on to that particular thought, because we're nearing the city. Look."

Raoul leaned forward again and peered out through the windshield, and sure enough, just ahead of them he could see the lights of the city twinkling in the distance, getting brighter and brighter as they drew ever near.

"Sure is pretty," he murmured.

"Yes it is," Tracks agreed. "Hold on tight, Raoul. We're almost home."

END.


	6. Mistletoe

**Mistletoe**

Smiling a little to himself, Mirage moved away from the window and went to inspect the rest of the orphanage. He hadn't gone more than halfway down the hallway when he heard the soft patter of little feet behind him. Turning around, he saw the little raven-haired girl trotting after him. He stopped and crouched to greet her.

"Shouldn't you be with your friends, Martha?" he asked.

"I am," she replied. "You're my fwiend, too. Whe'e you going?"

"I'm just taking a walk, looking around." He paused and thought for a moment. "Maybe you'd like to show me around your home?"

She nodded eagerly. "I show you awound."

"Alright then." He scooped her up in his hands and stood up, then carefully placed her on his right shoulder strut. "Hold on tight now."

Martha giggled and placed one thin little arm around Mirage's neck. "Holding! Weady!"

"Okay, so which way do we go?"

She pointed down the hall. "Go down and turn wight. I'll show you my woom."

Mirage followed her directions and soom came to a door that opened up to a small room that was lined with about ten bunk beds along the length of each wall. Each bed had only the barest essentials of a pillow and two blankets, and some had the additional stuffed toy sitting against the pillow. A rusting old heater sat at the far end of the room.

"Does it ever get cold in here?" he asked.

"Sometimes," Martha replied. "When it wains or snows weally hard. Then we share our beds."

"I see." Mirage shut the door and then continued along the corridor.

Another door opened into a dining room and kitchen, and again he noted the communal living arrangement in the way that 20 children could sit at one long table, possibly comfortably, given that most of them were all small and thin. It tugged at his spark to see how they lived. To him it was an injustice. They should have been enjoying all the things that life had to offer their young souls, not living like… this.

"We have weally nice chicken soup sometimes," Martha said.

Mirage backed out and closed the door. "Doesn't it bother you that you don't have some of the things that other children may have?"

"No." She shook her head. "And anyway, I have the same things."

"Oh do you?"

She nodded enthusiastically. "Of course I do! Silly Autobot. I have fwiends, and gwown-ups who care about us. They not my mommy and daddy, but I know they still wuv me. Don't you have the same things?"

Mirage chuckled then as he thought about his fellow Autobots. "Yeah, I guess I do."

They came back to the main hall, and Mirage stopped at the doorway and crouched down for her to jump off. Just before she did, she leaned over, wrapped both arms around his neck and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Then she slid off, giggling.

"What was that for?" Mirage asked.

Martha pointed above his head at a small bunch of leaves. "You under mistletoe. That means you get a kiss."

Mirage smiled, leaned down further and gave her a light peck on the cheek. "So do you."

Beaming, she hugged his leg. "I like you, Miwage."

END.


	7. Reindeer

**Reindeer**

Tracks groaned as he watched the traffic build up on the streets, with more and more cars forming a snaking line every minute. He himself sat parked by the side of the road while Raoul went into one of the toy stores to buy Mirage's gifts, as well as a few more decorations for the tree to go with the hand-crafted ones the orphanage children were making.

"Such poor time management," he said to himself, as he watched people go to and fro, in and out of stores. "Why, on this planet, they have to wait till Christmas Eve itself to do their shopping is beyond me."

"It's the thrill of grabbing last minute bargains," Raoul said as he opened the door, arms laden with bags and packages, all colorfully wrapped. Then he looked up and saw the jam. "Oh great, how are we gonna get outta this one."

Tracks sighed dramatically. "Guess I'll have to try and fly us as far as I can. Do try not to get sick this time, I took a lot of trouble to look good for the festivities tonight."

Raoul slammed the door shut and strapped himself in. "Just get us there on time, pretty boy. Honestly, I don't know why I even put up with you sometimes."

"Because deep down inside, you endeavour to be just like me." Tracks started up his engine and flipped out his wings.

"Or I'm just a sucker for punishment," Raoul replied as the Corvette took off.

They flew a couple of miles into the city and were only a few more blocks from the orphanage, when Tracks' engine began to hiccup and they started to descend.

"Drat," Tracks cursed. "Must have used up more energy than I thought getting out of the Pine Barrens. I don't have enough fuel to make it the rest of the way." He touched down on the road again and came to a stop in front of a small park. "Any bright ideas this time Raoul? Or perhaps you'd like to push me the rest of the way."

Raoul peered out through the windshield. "Actually I think I do." He got out of the car. "I'll be right back, don't go anywhere."

"Very funny."

The boy snickered as he ran up to an elderly man sitting on a bench beside an open-topped carriage that was attached not to a pair of horses, but reindeer. Tracks had a sinking feeling inside his fuel banks, which only increased as the man stood up, unhitched the animals from the carriage and led them behind Raoul towards him.

"Oh no."

"Hey Tracks, Mr. Johnson here's gonna lend us his reindeer to get us to the orphanage. They're gonna tow you behind them and I can guide them from your roof," Raoul informed him.

The man, meanwhile, finished hitching the pair of animals to a mortified Tracks' hood, and Raoul scrambled onto his roof, straddling the top of the tree as he took the reins.

"That's the last time I'm asking you to think of something," Tracks told him.

"Yeah, that's what you said the last time." Raoul waved to the old man. "Thanks Mr Johnson. I'll bring them right back to you tomorrow morning. Merry Christmas!"

He flipped the reins and they were off, the reindeer pulling Tracks' light sportscar frame fairly easily along the snow-dusted roads, Raoul guiding them skillfully from his roof. The bells on their harnesses jingled merrily as they trotted past block after block. People stopped and pointed in surprise, and Tracks half-suspected they were laughing at him.

He could only hope none of the other Autobots saw him like this, because if they did, he had no idea how he was going to live it down.

"Almost there!" Raoul called.

"Good. The sooner we get there the better. This is humiliating."

"Aww, it ain't so bad. Now all I need is a red suit and a beard and I'd be Santa Claus."

"Keep wishing Raoul," Tracks replied. "You just might get it."

END.


	8. Star

**Star**

Mirage chuckled as he closed the line on Raoul's call that he and Tracks were nearing the orphanage, and went to the door to head outside and wait for them. He stepped out into an ankle-deep pile of snow and carefully moved to a side so that he wouldn't block the doorway for anyone else.

As he waited, he glanced up at the sky. It had since stopped snowing and the clouds had blown over, leaving a clear, star-filled night sky in their wake. Mirage gazed at the stars, and at one in particular that shone brighter than the rest. For a moment, he let himself imagine that it was Cybertron and for a moment it felt as if home wasn't too far off after all – not if he could still see it from where he was.

"Is that your home Miwage?" a small voice asked from near his foot.

The spy looked down in surprise and saw his friend Martha standing in the snow, with only a thin shawl wrapped around her frail little shoulders.

"You shouldn't be out here, Martha," he said. "Its quite chilly and you might catch a cold and get sick."

"It okay. I'm used to it."

Used to the cold or used to getting sick, Mirage wondered, but didn't ask. Instead he bent down and picked her up in his hands, letting her sit on his forearm as he held her against his warm chestplate. She smiled brightly up at him and he found himself smiling back.

"I like to think its my home," he said, looking back up at the star.

"Me too," Martha replied. "That where my mommy and daddy are. They waiting for me, and one day I'm going to see them again."

"And I'm sure they'll be very happy to see you, too."

"Whe'e Miwage's mommy and daddy?"

The Autobot balked at that, not quite sure how to reply. "I… uh… I think they're in the star, too." His optics glazed over with a bit of sadness. "Along with some of my friends." A sigh came out before he could stop it.

Martha looked up at him with a bit of a pout and patted his wrist. "Don't cwy Miwage. It Chwistmas. Time to be happy. Those in star happy, want us to be happy also." She looked back at the star. "They don't mean to go so soon and weave us behind, but they know we catch up one day, and we all be together again. So pwease don't be sad."

"How do you know they're happy where they are Martha?" he couldn't help but ask.

"Star shines bwightwy. When they happy, it vewy bwight, wike tonight."

Mirage smiled at that. "You think so?"

She nodded eagerly. "I know so."

The spy cuddled her to him. "Thank you, Martha."

"For what? Siwwy Autobot, I didn't do an'thing."

"You cheered me up, made me happy."

Martha giggled. "That 'cause I happy."

"I'm glad you are. Now, lets go see if that tree's nearby."


	9. Decorations

**Decorations**

Tracks groaned to himself when he saw Mirage and one of the children from the orphanage standing outside and waiting for him. At the same time he heard Raoul chuckle from his roof, where he was still sitting and guiding the pair of reindeer that towed him. As they neared, he saw Mirage's optics widen in surprise, and a rare smile grace his lips, while the little girl on his arm pointed and laughed brightly.

"I wont ask," Mirage said when the finally came to a stop. He put the little girl down as Raoul jumped off. "Raoul, why don't you take Martha inside while I help Tracks with the tree."

"Sure thing Raj. C'mon Martha, lets go tell the others the tree's here." Raoul took the girl's hand and led her inside.

Mirage meanwhile, knelt and unhitched the reindeer from Tracks' undercarriage, then stood up and untied the tree from his roof, allowing him to finally transform. Once back in robot form, he handed Mirage several shopping bags.

"The gifts you wanted me to buy for you."

Mirage nodded. "Thanks." Then he nodded to the tree. "Well, you're the mech of the hour, guess you'd better take that tree inside. The children have spent most of the day making decorations to hang on it, so we probably shouldn't keep them waiting any longer."

"Oh, very well." Tracks hoisted the tree easily and made for the entrance. "By the way, in one of those bags…" He leaned closer and whispered in the spy's audio.

The mech chuckled. "You got it."

They proceded inside and a loud cheer went up from the children as Tracks placed the tree in its designated pot and packed it in firmly with dirt. Then he stepped back and faced the little ones.

"Alright, there's your tree. It looks a little plain at the moment, so why don't all of you brighten it up a little with all those decorations."

No sooner were the words out of his mouth when he was immediately swamped by the children all eager to get their own special creations on the branches. Several began to tug and tap on his leg-armour for a lift up to reach the higher branches. After staring at them for a moment, he figured he'd already been humiliated enough that night, so a few children clambering over him wouldn't hurt his pride too much.

He knelt down and instantly the braver children began to climb onto his head and shoulders, holding on tightly to his armour as he stood, then tentatively reaching out and hanging their ornaments on the tree. Using this method, the top of the tree soon began to acquire just as many stars, bells, angels, baubels, holly and reindeer as the bottom.

"Why don't you decorate the tree, Mister Autobot," one of the boys suggested, holding up a thick role of red and gold tinsel.

"I suppose I could."

Taking the tinsel from the boy, Tracks carefully wrapped the sparkly streamers around the tree, starting from the top and making his way to the bottom. There were several 'oohs' and 'ahhs' from the children as he finished and stood back to admire his handy work.

Raoul smiled. "He seems to be enjoying this."

Mirage, who stood at his side, nodded in agreement. "He's the center of attention right now, why wouldn't he."

"True."

"Oh and Raoul, there's something you need to do."

"Huh? Me? What?"

"Follow me, you'll see."

Puzzled, the young man followed the spy out, never noticing the wicked smile Tracks threw in his direction. Oh yes, payback would be sweet indeed.

END.


	10. Traditions

**Traditions**

The children and Tracks had just about finished decorating the tree when Mirage came back out again, sans Raoul. He looked at Tracks, smiled and nodded, then went to pick up Martha who was holding onto a large star. The little girl giggled as she was hoisted onto his shoulders and brought to the tree.

"So as tradition says, the star goes on last, doesn't it?" he asked.

She nodded, then proceded to stand up on Mirage's shoulder, bracing herself and propping the star up on the topmost branch.

"That 'cause the star wed the Wise Men to the baby in the manger," she replied. "So the star's vewy important."

Mirage set her back down on the ground, then began to unpack the gifts from the bags and set them under the tree. The children's eyes widened.

"Pwesents!" Martha exclaimed. "For us?"

Mirage nodded. "Oh yes, for all of you." He held up a package wrapped in sparkly blue and white paper. "And this one's for you Martha." Its tradition to give presents to each other for Christmas, too, isn't it?"

The children chorused their agreement.

"Oh but there's just one thing," Tracks told them. "It's also tradition that no one get's to open their presents till Christmas Morning."

That announcement was met with a chorus of disappointment.

"Don't worry, time's gone by pretty fast today and it'll be morning before you know it," Mirage assured them.

"Why do we have to follow traditions anyway?" a boy asked.

"Because they impo'tant," Martha replied.

"Quite important," Mirage added. "Traditions help you to remember things that happened before your time. You wouldn't even be having Christmas presents if traditions hadn't been passed down over the centuries from person to person, and generation to generation."

"Twadition keeps things alive?" Martha asked.

"In a way."

"What kind of things?"

"Well… customs, cultures, religion. The way some people live their lives may infact be based on traditions that started centuries ago." Mirage gestured to the tree. "Like the star." He touched Martha's cheek. "And the kiss you gave me under the mistletoe. We wouldn't have all that if it werent for tradition."

"So if we don't have twadition, then no Santa Cwause either?"

"I'm afraid not."

"Santa doesn't visit orphanages anyway," another girl said.

"Oh I wouldn't say that," Mirage chuckled. "In fact, I heard he was on his way here right now. Should be here in a little while actually."

A murmur of amazement went around the room and Tracks, who was standing by the door, smirked.

"I hope you've all been good children this year," he said. "Because you know what traditionally happens to bad kids."

"They get punished," Martha said.

"Oh yes they do," Tracks replied. "See I know of a boy who said and did a few bad things this year, and now he's being punished for it."

"From beyond the door, in the hallway, they heard Raoul's voice.

"Don't rub it in, man, alright!"

Mirage stood up. "Well I guess Santa's just arrived. Now why don't all of you sit gather around the Christmas Tree and give him a big cheer when he comes in?"

Whispering excitedly, the children scrambled to get into position, anticipation and excitement written all over their little faces, and Mirage couldn't help but notice a comfortably warm feeling beneath his armor. Perhaps it hadn't been so bad coming out to the orphanage and spending time with the children after all.

"Alright kids," Tracks announced. "Here comes Santa Claus!"

END.


	11. Santa Claus

**Santa Claus**

Raoul fidgeted uncomfortably as he stood just outside the doorway, listening to Tracks and Mirage talk to the the children. How Tracks had been able to get a costume and stow it in his trunk without Raoul himself knowing about, he didn't know. And he definitely did not want to know WHY the mech had the costume in the first place.

"Tracks, man, if you weren't my buddy I'd be seriously wondering about you," he muttered to himself.

He heard Tracks announce him into the room and sighed, trudging forward and then forcing a bounce into his step. How on Earth was he ever supposed to score a date if Tracks kept endangering his tough, street-wise reputation like this? If there were any babes in that room right now, the Corvette was going to pay dearly. He'd paint the mech orange in his sleep!

Thankfully for him, the only girls in the room were all too young for him to even consider dating, and they – along with the boys - greeted his entrance with rousing cheers. Behind the small mob, he could see Tracks smothering giggles, while Mirage smiled as politely as he could. Oh yes, he was going to pay in some way or the other.

"Uh… ho ho ho!" he tried, and Tracks cracked up laughing.

Raoul thought for a moment, about ripping out the pillows tied around his waist and beating the blue mech senseless with them, for all the good it would do.

"Merry Christmas, boys and girls. Have you all been good children this year?" he asked.

He was met with eager nods and choruses of agreement and carefully patted as many children as he could. Meanwhile, he could see Tracks grinning from audio to audio as he watched, thoroughly enjoying the boy's discomfort at doing something less than his macho personality was used to.

Raoul shifted from foot to foot, bringing one hand up to scratch under the itchy beard he'd fixed around his ears. That was when a little boy tugged on his coat. Tracks recognized him as the one who'd asked about traditions.

"Aren't you a little young to be Santa?" he asked.

Tracks and Mirage almost lost it. Raoul shot them a glare, then looked down at the boy, resisting the urge to tell him to beat it.

"I age slowly, ma- little boy. How else do you think I've been able to get around all these centuries," he said.

Tracks had to hand it to him, that was a good save.

Another little girl tugged on his other side. "Are those your reindeer outside?"

"Uh… yeah, I guess they are."

"Do they fly?"

Raoul blanched. "Heh, not these two. Its not easy to bring a sleigh into New York City with flying reindeer. Too many sky-scrapers for them to get tangled up on. So I came in on a flying car instead."

"I don't believe you."

Tracks came forward. "Well, why don't we all step outside and we'll show you."

Maybe he wouldn't repaint Tracks after all, Raoul thought. "Yeah, just follow us."

The two of them led the way outside where Tracks quickly transformed for Raoul to get in. Then, with a rev of his engine and a flick of his rear wings, he took to the sky to the amazement of the children. Eager to have his moment in the spotlight as well, Tracks flipped and rolled a few times, chuckling sadistically at Raoul's cries of protest.

"Cut it out, man!" he yelled, yanking off the beard, hat and coat.

He was violently flung from door to door as Tracks looped, and was grateful for the pillows that padded most of his body from too much harm.

"What's the matter Raoul? Too much for you?" Tracks asked sweetly. "Oh alright, I'll take you back down. It's just about time for some of those kids to start their play, too."

"Yeah, good." The boy breathed a sigh of relief as the Corvette touched down lightly on the snow behind the orphanage. "And thanks for the save back there."

"Don't mention it. I guess this makes us even?"

"I guess it does."

END.


	12. Nativity

**Nativity**

Mirage shook his head at Tracks antics and disappeared back into the orphanage to see if everything was ready for the children's little Christmas skit. He found his way to another small room that was to be the make-shift theatre for the night and ducked inside. A small stage was set up at one end, complete with a blanket for a curtain, and cardboard and paper props.

"Miwage! Over here!" a voice called, and Martha came running up.

In the time Tracks had been showing off outside, some of the other children, Martha included, had gone to change into their "costumes" and his little friend now wore a long blue and white dress, complete with a white shawl over her head. He looked down at her.

"You look very pretty," he said.

"Do you know who I am?" she asked.

Mirage shook his head. "I'm not too familiar with Earth religions."

"I'm Mawy!" she replied as if that explained everything.

"That's great." Mirage made a mental note to ask Jazz or one of the humans about this when he got back. "And shouldn't you be taking your place on stage now? Your play starts in a little while."

"Yup! I better go. We get to wear make-up, too!"

The little girl ran back happily to where a group of ladies was standing and applying powders and other things to the children's faces to make them look 'nicer'. Mirage didn't see the point in it, but the children – the girls especially – seemed to enjoy it. Another question for Jazz, he thought to himself.

Tracks and a normal-looking Raoul joined them at this point, and the three stood at the back of the room, while all the other children seated themselves around the stage. A melody started up on the newly-tuned piano, and Mirage beamed in pride at how well the instrument sounded now.

Martha came up and knelt in the middle of the stage, in front of a boy dressed all in white with a pair of feathery wings stuck to his back and a gold paper halo suspended on wires above his head. An angel, he figured from the decorations he'd seen.

He listened as the angel told Mary that she was to have a baby boy who would one day deliver all his people from plight and suffering and lead them to eternal peace and happiness, and that he would be known as the king of kings. He watched enthralled, as Mary and her husband Joseph traveled with their donkey to a large town called Bethlehem, where they had their baby in the lowliest of places – a barn just outside the town.

"If he was the king of all kings, shouldn't he have been born in a palace somewhere?" he asked Raoul in a whisper.

"Naw man. Material stuff don't make a king. Its what's inside that counts, and how you treat other folks," the boy replied.

Mirage kept this in mind, and turned his attention back to the play in time to see Mary place a little baby in a manger. Shepherds came with their lambs to see the child, and then three grandly-dressed humans known as the Wise Men, bearing gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh. A group of angels in a corner began to sing.

_Peace on the Earth, goodwill to Men  
From heaven's all-gracious King  
The world in solemn stillness lay_

_To hear the angels sing._

The play came to an end to much applause from the audience, and somewhere in the distance, church bells began to ring out the dawning of Christmas. The sound of them snapped Mirage out of his dreamlike state and a part of him realized that he had just witnessed something very special.

He looked down to see Mary – Martha still in costume – standing by his leg.

"Mewwy Chwistmas, Miwage," she said, smiling up at him.

He picked her up and cuddled her. "Merry Christmas, Martha."

"You like the play?"

"Very much. I thought you were a very good Mary."

She giggled, hugging him. "Glad I met you, Miwage."

"I'm glad I met you, too, Martha."

And he was. When he'd first come to the orphanage earlier that night, he'd been less than pleased about being there, much rather preferring to stay at home among his prizes and possessions. It had taken the innocent speech of one little child to make him realize that there were indeed things greater than material items. Like friends.

He looked over at Tracks. "Merry Christmas. I think we did good here, don't you?"

"Oh definitely," Tracks replied. "They wont be forgetting this one in a hurry." He smiled and shook hands with the spy. "Merry Christmas, Mirage."

END.


End file.
